


Angel Lust

by Beltenebra



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, NewS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Dark, M/M, Psychological Horror, Unreliable Narrator, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 13:49:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8404069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beltenebra/pseuds/Beltenebra
Summary: Kato Shigeaki finds himself in strange circumstances, luckily he encounters someone who can shed some light on a situation shrouded in mystery.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snoozingkitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoozingkitten/gifts).



> This was originally written for JE SquickFic 2010. 
> 
> I wanted it to be a little confusing, a little creepy... I was kind of aiming for the reader to be caught between finding it sexy and disturbing. ^_^ It might be helpful to know what [Priapism](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Priapism) is.

He opened his eyes to a hazy sea of grey. His vision was blurry, he shook his head a few times and blinked to clear it. He bit back a groan at the heavy pounding at his temples; he squeezed his eyes shut tight and gingerly pressed fingers to his forehead, massaging in gentle circles for a few moments. A few seconds passed and his vision was clearing, he was alone. The room was on the small side, maybe ten feet square but with an unusually high ceiling. No windows, he noted absently, industrial lighting, the fluorescent flickering almost too rapidly to notice.

The walls were plain grey concrete; there was a single metal door with a small opening about eye height. Presumably this was one of those theme nightclubs, designed to look like a hospital or institution or Catholic school. He never understood the appeal of getting drunk somewhere that was designed to be uncomfortable. His aching head was an accurate testament to how much he had imbibed last night. There was something like a table or a bench set along one wall and a higher platform in the corner which must be used for some type of performance. The firm entertained a lot of clients in the newest, hippest spots in Tokyo, he had woken up in stranger places.

Work-- right. He glanced down at his watch and frowned at its absence from his wrist. He had liked the watch but he could afford to replace it. He was more irritated by the fact that he didn’t even know what day it was. It wasn’t like him to indulge when he was on outings for work if he could avoid it; he couldn’t afford to let his guard down.

He tilted his head to the side, intending to stretch his stiff muscles out and yelped with pain. One hand flew to his neck; the flesh right under his jaw was tender and sore. His breath hissed out between clenched teeth as he cautiously probed his skin, the soft sibilant sound loud in the quiet gloom of the grey space. He felt bruised.

Now he really needed to figure out where he was and what was going on. He tamped down the lick of panic at the base of his spine when he realized that the heavy-looking metal door didn’t seem to have a handle. He pushed, hoping that it would swing open when pushed from the inside. If it normally did, it wasn’t now-- the door didn’t give a centimeter. Swearing softly under his breath, he took to pacing back and forth. It was a habit of his, especially when he was working; it helped him focus his thoughts so he could review all of the facts in an orderly manner.

Ok. He was locked in what seemed to be a sort of holding cell in some kind of facility. He hadn’t encountered staff of any kind which made his first assumption that this was an entertainment establishment very unlikely. His watch was gone, most likely removed by someone. He glanced down and choked back a shocked gasp. His regular clothes were missing, the last thing he remembered, he had been wearing one of his usual suits. Now he was barefoot and dressed in some sort of plain, navy jumpsuit. How could he possibly have missed this the first time? He knuckled his left temple and winced at the pain.

He needed to pull himself together; he was lacking crucial pieces of information. He couldn’t possibly hope to assemble a logical assessment of his situation in this state. He took a deep and calming breath, forcing himself to face the most likely truth, however grim. Someone clearly wanted him here. But who could possibly want to imprison him? He was just a normal guy. He did his job and kept his head down, he was so careful not to draw attention to himself. So careful.

_“You thought you were so careful, didn’t you, Kato-san. You certainly covered your tracks well enough for a while. Just what we expect from a person of your intellectual caliber. But even someone like you couldn’t hide forever.”_

The hell?! The memory of the voice was so clear, ringing in his ears and then gone instantaneously. It sounded like some kind of interrogation. He had certainly been present for enough interrogations, but never on the receiving end.

“What the fuck is going on?” He barely recognized the harsh grating syllables that must have come from his throat as they echoed in the empty room.

The grey walls offered no explanation. But he heard footsteps in the hallway, voices low but sonorous in the stone hallways. Striding over to the door and peering through the small window, he could just make out two men in uniforms, looked like prison guards but more heavily armed than he was used to seeing.

He had no idea how he had ended up here but it was clearly some kind of mistake. Or a horrible prank gone awry. Kato Shigeaki didn't belong in prison. _Don't think you'll just end up in prison for the rest of your life, Kato. You've been busy. No, I think they'll go for the fullest extent of punishment allowed._ He shook his head violently, heedless of the sharp ache in his neck, trying to dislodge the nasty whisper in his mind.

He drowned out the voice with his own, pounding on the door and yelling about being trapped, calling to the guards to let him out. The men walked right past him; they were trading opinions and speculations on next season's Giants line-up. Relaxed and joking not three feet away, they showed no signs of having heard him at all. Not so much as a flicker of an eyelid of the hint of a frown.

_I don't give a shit about your noble intentions, Kato-san. In the eyes of the law, you're a monster and I'm going to make an example of you. I'm going to send you somewhere no one will ever be able to listen to you again._

He swallowed against the sudden and acrid taste of bile rising in his throat, silently willing the insidious voice to shut up, to take it back, to tell him this was all a mistake. He wasn't supposed to be here. His desperate shouts for help shifted into wordless rage, his fists raining blows on the unforgiving steel.

None of it made a damn bit of difference. His efforts were completely futile. He blinked back angry tears, hot against his eyelids, wondering why this feeling of enraged helplessness felt so familiar.

_"Sir, I don't understand how we can continue to represent him when he has all but confessed to committing every atrocity he has been accused of."_

_"Kato-kun, that makes no difference legally-speaking. Attorney-client privilege allows us to keep all of that information safe."_

_"But how can we be working to keep a criminal from being punished?"_

_"Think of yourself as a kind of confessor, Kato-kun. Our clients come to us having transgressed and we give them an opportunity that the law wouldn't. We allow them to turn their lives around and make amends."_

_"Just because they can afford it? Because they are evil_ and _rich?"_

_"That's a little dramatic, don't you think? Evil is highly subjective. Some of these men are community leaders, benefactors even. And Western history has a grand tradition of great men literally paying for their crimes. Absolution is possible for anyone who can afford it. That's our job, Kato-kun. And we, you included I might add, are_ very _good at it."_

"They can't hear you, you know. The guards."

His eyes shot open at the sound of a voice, a _real_ voice, warm and amused in the stark room. He turned quickly, pressing his back and palms against the door, peering into the gloomy corners of the room. "Who are you? How did you get _in_ here?"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and puffs of cool fog crept their way along the floor, curling around his ankles. It looked exactly like a cheap effect in a cheesy horror film. But some part of him believed it. The pang of fear in his gut was visceral and real.

A young man, maybe his age, maybe a few years older, stepped out of the darkening shadows. He was tall and willowy- long, graceful limbs and narrow hips. He was dressed simply in white shirt and pants, barefoot on the stone floor. If the chill bothered him, he didn't acknowledge it.

He was sure his eyes must be playing tricks with him because he could make out the man's sly smile and dancing eyes in the dim light of several small hovering flames, casting blue and purple and green shadows across his face. He clamped his lips shut to prevent himself from gibbering as the man glided across the floor, closer to him.

"Who I am is not really important. At least not right now."

His voice was even, conversational. It didn't really sound like it belonged to some kind of demon or monster or sorcerer that could summon magic flames. But then again, he had no first-hand experience to draw from. And it might still be some kind of impressive parlor trick.

"I think it would be much more interesting to talk about you, Kato Shigeaki."

He had barely opened his mouth to reply when the man held up a graceful hand. "How do I know who you are, right?"

He snapped his jaw shut with an audible click and nodded but didn't withhold a withering glare. The man just smiled pleasantly.

"I've been waiting to meet you, Shige. And you shouldn't wonder why people know your name and face. You are, after all, a bit of a celebrity. Especially around here," the man dropped that tantalizing bit of information with a smirk that made his blood run cold.

He was pleased that when he replied a moment later, his voice barely shook. "I'm in some kind of prison, aren't I? Can you tell me why I'm here?"

"Mmmhmm. One of the most notable prisons." He made it sound like an honor, like being accorded the Presidential suite in a classy hotel. He stared at Shige through narrowed eyes, long and hard. After a minute or two he cocked his head to the side and tapped a long finger against his chin. "You really don't remember anything, do you?"

"I know that my name is Kato Shigeaki. I live in Tokyo and I work at a private law firm. I think I'm a good person and I can't imagine that I did anything worthy of being put in a prison." He twined his hands together to stop them from shaking. He tried willing himself as sure of his statement as he sounded.

The man laughed, but it wasn't in a nasty way, more like he was surprised and delighted. "Oh you were a lawyer, all right. A veritable wunderkind. Got offered a dream job your first year out of school. A really swanky practice, right? Glamorous clients and high-profile cases. But they didn't know everything they needed to know about you, did they? They only looked at your grades and internships and test scores. They didn't do their homework in the ways it really counted."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

The man smiled again, charming and feral. "They didn't know that you were a man of integrity. Did they, Shige?"

_"They were evil men. They needed to be punished."_

_"And even though you are a perfectly competent lawyer, you didn't bother to use the law. You took their punishment into your own hands. Literally. Isn't that right, Kato-san?"_

_"They were very careful. They made sure the law couldn’t touch them."_

_"You_ assumed _they would be acquitted."_

The memory hit him like a physical blow. He could hear the bite of disgust in the prosecutor's voice and knew what his own reply would be.

He whispered his answer along with the Shige in his head, "They were evil. They deserved to die."

"I don't doubt it." The man in white agreed. "And it's not that people disliked your conclusion, just your… unconventional methods. People tend to get a bit nervous when powerful men start mysteriously dropping dead."

His chest felt impossibly tight; he couldn't breathe. His memories slotted themselves into place, linking up like puzzle pieces, the picture in his mind growing clearer. "I killed them. And they caught me."

The man smirked, "Eventually. You were very clever about it. You eluded the police for quite some time."

"I was put on trial and put in prison."

"Correct!"

His heart hammered and dread blossomed in his gut, "I'm going to be executed, aren't I? That's why I'm here."

The man smiled fondly and patted his shoulder in a comforting gesture, "No, Shige, not quite."

Shige felt his eyes go wide and the man's cheerful tone did nothing to alleviate his fear.

"The worst is over. You can't be executed twice." His eyes were dark and kind as he swept his hand back to indicate the structure in the corner.

Wooden platform. It had a ballast that swung out over the floor. His hand flew to his bruised neck. If counsel pushed for it the most extreme sentence for murder was-

"They hanged you, Shige."

No idea how he got there, the guards acting like he didn't exist…

The man nodded, his conclusions must have shown on his face. "You're already dead."

"And so are you."

The man's narrow, handsome face split into a blinding grin, features highlighted by his flickering lights. He extended a hand, "Koyama Keiichiro. It's good to finally introduce myself properly."

Shige cleared his throat- how did that even work anyway? He could still physically feel the floor beneath him, the cold coming off the walls, could feel the breath in his lungs, in and out. He was baffled by the feeling of solid flesh, Koyama's hand cool and smooth in his. "Am I here because I didn't remember? Because I didn't know what I am?"

But that couldn't be quite right. Koyama seemed perfectly aware. "Were you a killer too? How long have you been here?"

Koyama's smile faded, face smoothing into a more pensive expression. "A while." He paused, it seemed like he was considering his words carefully. "I wasn't a killer but I was executed for murder." He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders like he was shaking off his memories. "It's not important. I'm more concerned about what's going to happen next."

The man had been gradually drifting closer as they talked, bringing him within a foot or two of Shige.

His mind buzzed, host to a swarm of questions. Was Koyama some kind of soul collector here to take Shige away? If he was a ghost, why did the world still feel solid beneath his feet? Was Koyama like him, were they doomed to spend eternity in this room? He wanted to press Koyama for answers but as the man advanced on him, invading his space and crowding him right up against the unyielding stone wall, he got the sense that Koyama wasn't really interesting in talking.

Shige had never been dead before so he wasn't sure of the logistics. He thought it was odd that he could feel the warmth of Koyama's body, mere centimeters from his, could feel the brush of the man's breath on his cheek and, when Koyama laid one of those graceful hands on his shoulder, he felt his skin tingle at the touch, the proximity. He managed to rally a mind gone suddenly quite blank just enough to mumble one question. "What happens now?"

The corners of Koyama's lips turned up in a sly fox-smile that made Shige's heart race. How does that work? He chuckled softly and let his free hand dance down the front of Shige's jumpsuit, leaving fire in its wake. "You'll see."

He closed his eyes as Koyama pressed their mouths together, soft at first, building heat and intensity as Shige let himself respond. All he could do was feel- the warmth of Koyama's mouth, his tongue slick against Shige's, every little slide sending shivers down his body. He gave himself up to the sensation, to the heat and the thrill, heard himself making small, helpless noises. In this grey, liminal space he felt anything but dead.

When Koyama tore himself away to kiss his way down Shige's neck, he managed to gasp out another question. "How is this even possible? Are you sure this isn't some incredibly disturbing wet dream?"

The other man pulled back and smiled, "Well, you can believe what you want. But there's a condition called priapism that is often found in men who have been hanged. He leaned in close to murmur in Shige's ear, the sound low and sensual, "They call it 'angel lust'." Shige was helpless against the sudden jolt of sensation as Koyama palmed his cock, roughly stroking the erection he hadn't even noticed he had.

"I don't care what you think is real, Shige. I want you to fuck me."

Logic and reason had already gone out the window. At best this was a very vivid dream, at worst… well, it didn’t make much sense to be cautious at this stage of the game. His body was very sure that whatever was happening, Koyama was real enough and it was clamoring for more of his attention. Shige smiled for the first time since he found himself in this place. "Yeah. Ok."

Koyama's responding grin was lascivious enough to heat Shige's cheeks. Shige watched unabashedly as he tugged urgently at Shige's clothes, pulling the zipper down and yanking the coveralls low on Shige's hips. He pressed in close, their bodies lined up from shoulders to knees, hot silky skin all the way down. Koyama had lost his clothes and Shige didn't see them in a pile anywhere. Dream logic or magic, it didn't really matter. Most of his attention was taken up by the tantalizing brush of Koyama's silken steel cock sliding against his with each faint movement of their hips.

He let Koyama kiss him again, this time bringing his arms up to hold him close, run his hand along the line of this strong shoulders. Koyama made a desperate, approving noise as Shige spun him around and pressed him back against the wall. A long, lean leg wrapped around his hip and the blunt head of his cock brushed tantalizingly against the tight opening to Koyama's body.

Koyama whimpered and shook as Shige buried his head in the crook of his neck to hide the blush flaming across his face. "I don't know how ghost sex works but do we need something? I mean- something to make this… easier?"

The taller man responded wordlessly, swiping his tongue along his own palm and wrapping it around Shige's cock, holding Shige in place and pulling his hips back with his leg, urging him forward into that too tight heat.

"You don't have to do it like that. I don't get off on pain."

Koyama laughed in his ear, dark and breathless, "No. But I do."

The moan that echoed off the stone walls as Shige bit his lip and pressed forward certainly didn't sound pained. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He wasn't a blushing virgin or anything but this was intense. Koyama was all around him, arms slung around his shoulders, voice ringing in his ears, making his blood boil, body holding Shige in a viselike grip, every sensation intense, magnified, electric.

His hips had found a rhythm of their own accord, Koyama having loosened up just enough for him to move, setting a harsh, punishing pace that the other man seemed to love. He pounded them both into the wall keeping time to the music of Koyama's half-whimpered pleas, curses, and screams. He couldn't keep himself from groaning low and desperate, the perfect counterpoint. A distant part of his mind wondered if the guards could hear the wailing, if it sounded like sex or murder or something between.

"Shige, Shige, _god_. I've been waiting so long."

Shige had no idea what he was talking about, for all he knew Koyama had been here for years, maybe decades before meeting someone who he could interact with. All of his brainpower was dedicated to keeping his knees locked and hips moving, pushing against the tide of pleasure racing through his veins like liquid fire. Koyama unwound one arm from Shige's neck to tug his cock in time with Shige's thrusts and it felt like he was suffocating, gripped impossibly tighter by Koyama's body.

He had lost all touch with reality, whatever that may be, his world narrowed to tight heat, gasping moans, and the sweaty slide of his skin against Koyama's. He was scrabbling for control, biting his own lip bloody trying to hold out against the churning pleasure in his gut. A particularly vicious thrust made Koyama let go, slicking the space between them with sticky fluid. He couldn't help but giggle at the small, slightly hysterical voice in his head that wondered if ghost come counted as ectoplasm. But moments, a breath, a lifetime later he was gone, taken by the force of his orgasm; every nerve lighting up, his body shuddering like he was dancing with two thousand volts.

It all went dark again.

Some unknown amount of time later he opened his eyes once more to the grey gloom. Still disoriented, still unsure of what he was supposed to know. But his time he had company. This time he raised his head from the crook of a warm neck to meet dark eyes and a grateful smile.

If Koyama was a dream, he was a particularly vivid one. He pressed his pretty mouth to Shige's cheek in an unexpectedly affectionate gesture. "I really wanted to meet you. Thank you for not pushing me away."

Shige disentangled them enough so that he was no longer pressing Koyama into the wall but stayed close, reaching up to brush Koyama's dark hair off his forehead. "I don't understand. Why me?"

The other man slanted his eyes to the side, "I mentioned that I was also executed for murder. I died here too. In this room." He twisted his hands together a little, a nervous gesture that Shige found unexpectedly endearing. "I wasn't a criminal but I took the fall for one. One of those horrible men you worked for." The emotion in his eyes when he finally raised them to meet Shige's gaze almost knocked him back a step. "They put me in here but I never made it to the execution block. I didn't last more than a few months. But you killed him, the man I was killed for."

He wasn't sure how to respond to that. It should have been a little creepy that a vengeful ghost had been waiting for him to die so he could thank him. But on the whole, this entire experience was more than a little disturbing. And hell, who was he to care what was normal any more. He smiled, delighted when Koyama returned it, the expression making him glow a little brighter in the dark, seeming to lighten his entire being.

"So what now? Do we have to stay here?" He glanced around the bare cell, even with company this place would be stultifying boring after a while.

Koyama's grin turned mischievous. "Oh, no. I was just waiting for you. I thought you might want to go haunt some of the bastards you didn't get to before you got caught."

Shige chuckled and couldn't help but delight a little in the sinister sound of it ringing out against the stones. He screwed his eyes shut tight and concentrated hard for a moment, pleased when he looked down at himself and saw that he was now clothed entirely in white. He seemed to leave bloody footprints where he walked, interesting. He snapped his fingers and baleful green flames danced at his shoulder.

He snagged one of Koyama's hands in his, intertwining their fingers, and gestured towards what was probably the outside world with the other. "Lead on, angel."

**Omake:**

They only hired men with grit to guard this section of the prison. This was a maximum security wing where the most dangerous criminals were held and subsequently released from the burden of living.

There were, of course, all manners of stories associated with the place. Possession, demons, ghosts of the justly and unjustly executed alike were rumored to roam the hallways. Most of the time they were easy to dismiss, silly stories with no basis in fact.

But sometimes… every so often… a man might encounter some strange and unexplainable goings on. Occasionally they heard things: moaning, banging sounds in empty rooms, voices. Sometimes particularly intelligible ones.

"Ok, Shige! Lesson one: walking through solid surfaces."

_Clang_ "Owww! _Fuck_ , that hurt!"

"Ehehehe. Maybe it requires a little practice at first. Let's try that again."

The guard clutched his gun closer like a security blanket and hurried past that door. He hoped who or whatever they were, they were on their way out.


End file.
